


Can I Be Him

by floralnori



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralnori/pseuds/floralnori
Summary: Having just recorded their first, major label record and toured with The 1975, Unit is on the cusp of stardom. But all it takes is the reappearance of Chanyeol Park, the band member Kyungsoo had replaced and the object of his unrequited love, for everything to come crashing down.





	1. Intro and First Verse

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks and apologies to everyone who waited for me to finish this story. Just for full disclosure, if you’ve already read chapters 1-3, I went through and edited them a little. I just added links to the real-world songs mentioned in the story and fixed the clunkiest writing. The story hasn’t changed, so you don’t have to go back and reread unless you forgot what happened. 
> 
> So about song titles... Obviously, when characters in the story cover a song or hear a song by a real-world band, I’m using the real title of the real song by the real band. But when it’s a song written by characters in the story, I’m using the titles of chansoo fics I’ve loved and everyone should love. This might be confusing since often these titles are from the lyrics or titles of real-world songs. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks and apologies, again.

****

Parking in the North Loop was always a freaking pain in the ass. By some miracle, Kyungsoo only had to circle the neighborhood for ten minutes before he found a spot a mere block and a half away from Westerberg’s Bar and Lounge. As he pulled his guitar from his trunk, he regretted not swapping out the hard case he used when traveling for a soft case he could strap over his back. A block and a half no longer seemed so miraculous.

By the time he reached the two-story brick building, his guitar had gained a hundred pounds and his hand would have to be amputated. He’d have to learn how to play the piano with his feet if he wanted to stay in the band. Already mourning the loss of his hand and career, the sight of a white, cargo van with a crumpled back bumper pissed him off. Jongdae was the worst damn driver -- did you see the crumpled back bumper -- but somehow he always found rockstar parking. He decided not to kick the van’s tires out of spite. He couldn’t risk damaging his feet if he was going to restart his career as a piano player.

As he approached the entrance to the bar, the heavy wooden door swung open, and he was forced to dodge to avoid being hit by it and the tall man who’d pushed it open.

With his back to Kyungsoo, the man laughed and said to someone in the bar, “I’ll see you at check-in. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”

From inside the bar, a voice -- Baekhyun’s voice -- said, “No, you’ll just have to catch up.”

The man barked with laughter and with his back still turned to Kyungsoo, headed down the sidewalk.

Unnoticed and paralyzed, Kyungsoo was helpless to do more than study the man as he walked away. His hair was a soft, healthy blue-black, not the brittle haystack it’d been the last time Kyungsoo had seen it. His black hoodie was still over-sized, but underneath it, his shoulders were straight and strong. He’d lost the hunch he would crumple into everywhere except on stage. And as he walked, he swung his arms and legs confidently, like he was in a music video and about to start dancing the moment the break hit.

The guitar felt light in Kyungsoo’s hand.

Chanyeol looked happy.

Kyungsoo swung the case back and forth a few times and felt as though he too could start dancing. This was almost all that he’d ever wanted -- Chanyeol standing tall and feeling happy.

 

***

 

It wasn’t until he was stepping into the bar that the questions hit him. Why was Chanyeol here? Had he moved back? Baekhyun and Jongdae -- how had they reacted to seeing Chanyeol again? Well, he’d seen the end of their reunion, and it’d obviously gone well. But...had they known he’d be here? Had they been in touch without telling Kyungsoo? Had they planned on getting together before the show? And what did Chanyeol mean about seeing them at check-in?

“What the hell? Shut the door. You're letting all the cold air in,” a loud voice -- Jongdae’s -- said from inside the bar.

Kyungsoo realized he was still standing in the open doorway, one foot in, one foot out. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts and organize his feelings, but he’d been seen. He couldn’t just turn around now. He took a step to cross the threshold and let the door swing shut behind him.

He needed to snap out of it. He’d worked too hard for too many years to hide his feelings for Chanyeol to lose it now. He relaxed his facial muscles and put on the appearance of disinterest. It was as familiar and comfortable as the battered, leather jacket he wore.

He looked around as he ventured further into the newly remodeled bar. He hadn’t been in Westerberg’s in over a year. The landmark restaurant had decayed into a dive under the previous owner who hadn’t believed in remodeling or even cleaning. For years, his friend Jun Kim had complained about the state of the bar. If he was very drunk, he’d declare that he would either buy the place and restore it or burn it all down.

Kyungsoo turned in a slow circle, taking in the dark wood floors, paneled walls, and u-shaped bar. Jun had done good, and best of all, he wasn’t in jail for arson. Westerberg’s looked solid. This wasn’t a high-end nightclub. This was a bar for grungy indie bands to play for an even grungier audience. It looked like it could survive Armageddon or worse -- a Friday night crowd buzzed on hormones, booze, and music.

At some point, while Kyungsoo was looking around, Jongdae had disappeared. In his place, Jun appeared on the stage carrying two mic stands.

Jun smiled like he’d expected to see him. “Hey, man, good to see you,” he said. He abandoned the stands, crossed the stage, and jumped the three feet to the floor.  

Kyungsoo met him in the middle of the room with a handshake that turned into a bro hug. Jun was one of his favorite people, and he hadn’t seen him in the five months since Unit left to record in Santa Fe. As good as it had felt to eat dinner with his folks last night, it felt that good to see Jun again.

Jun had worked as the booking manager at The Entry for years. If he hadn’t given them multiple chances to prove themselves, Unit would never have gotten the deal with Virgin or the gig opening for The 1975. So when Jun had asked them to headline his opening night show, Minseok, their manager, charmed Virgin’s A&R guy into giving them an unplanned, two-week vacation.

Kyungsoo pulled away and swept his arm to indicate the bar as a whole. “The place looks great. I can’t believe you did all this in just a couple months.”

Jun just shook his head with a pleased smile and pointed at the bar. “Want something?”

Kyungsoo followed him to the bar. “A water would be great.” He set his guitar next to the bar and sat on a black, leather stool.

Jun sat next to him and shouted, “Yixing, you back there?”

After a moment, a man popped up from the other side of the center island. His black hair stuck out in clumps, and his eyes were heavy-lidded.

“Grab two waters for me then get out of here. I told you not to come in until five with the rest of the crew.”

Yixing managed to yawn and roll his eyes at the same time before disappearing behind the bar. He popped up again with two water bottles. He eyed Kyungsoo sleepily and hovered next to them until Jun jerked his thumb in the direction of the front door.

Watching the man amble out, Kyungsoo chuckled. “Are you still recruiting your employees from the Asian Student Association?”

Jun snorted. “It’s called networking, and it isn’t just for white people.”

Kyungsoo exchanged knowing smiles with Jun, but as other thoughts gained volume, his smile faded. He glanced over his shoulder at the stage. The space was quiet and Baekhyun and Jongdae-free so he asked, “Just now, was that Chanyeol Park I saw leaving the bar?”

Jun twisted off the cap from his bottle and took a swig. “That’s right. Chanyeol said you went to high school together. He wasn’t sure you’d remember him.”

It hurt like being elbowed in the gut to be reminded that he wasn’t close to Chanyeol. Kyungsoo really was just someone who went to high school with Chanyeol. That fact knocked the air out of his lungs and left a bruise. But he’d taken worse hits, and he recovered quickly.

He opened his own water bottle and took a sip. “He was really tight with Baekhyun and Jongdae. I was kind of on the periphery. You know, the quiet kid who glared at everyone.”

He was so good at telling half-truths. The whole truth was that he orbited around Chanyeol the way Pluto orbited around the sun -- always at a distance, always watching the light and longing for warmth, and never able to pull away.

He took another swig of water. “I thought he’d moved to Texas. Didn’t he produce some tracks with Bon Iver or Jason Isbell or someone?

“Yeah, he’s in Austin and has his own studio down there. When I heard he was going to be in town, I asked if he’d take a set tonight. He’s playing right before you.”

The sound of Minseok calling his name kept Kyungsoo from physically reacting to the news, but in his head, the words, “He’s playing right before you,” repeated on a loop.

Minseok jerked his chin in the direction of the front door. “I need help unloading the van.”

Kyungsoo clenched his jaw to keep from saying, “He’s playing right before us.” He managed to nod and stand.

“I’ll help,” Jun said as he slid off his stool.

Kyungsoo took a step toward Minseok.

_Chanyeol’s playing right before us._

Minseok sighed. “Where are Baekhyun and Jongdae?”

_Chanyeol’s playing --_

The curtains at the back of the stage were flung open, and Jongdae ran across and jumped off the stage with a shout. Baekhyun was two steps behind, but he quickly caught up and bumped Jongdae’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. He shouted in triumph as he took the lead. Jongdae recovered and sprinted to Baekhyun. They reached the door together, threw their weight against it, and stumbled outside.

Minseok turned to Jun, probably to apologize, but Jun just laughed and slung his arm over Minseok’s shoulder.

_Chanyeol’s playing right before us._

Kyungsoo trailed after Minseok and Jun as they headed out the door.

While Jongdae and Baekhyun argued over who’d won, Minseok apologized to Jun for unloading at the front door and suggested he drive around to the back. Jun just waved him off and grabbed one of Jongdae’s drums from the open side of the van.

 _Chanyeol’s playing …_ Was it just Chanyeol, or had he put together a band? Would he play his old songs or would he play something new? Were they happy, carefree love songs like he’d written when he was just starting out? Would they be dark and filled with loss and loneliness like the ones just before he moved?

Kyungsoo’s body ran on autopilot. He’d been loading and unloading instruments and equipment since he was seventeen. It didn’t take much conscious thought to grab something and carry it. Within ten minutes the van was empty, and they were on stage unpacking and setting up.

When Jun called his name, he flinched and dropped the cable he was unwinding.

Jun was near the back of the stage helping Jongdae set up his drum kit. “I started to tell you the line-up for tonight. Polly in the Pocket -- have you heard them? They’re getting a ton of airplay on college radio. Very DIY, art-pop like Superorganism. You’ll like them. They open at eight-thirty. Spygame comes on after them. You played with them at The Entry, right?”

“And The Triple Rock.” Baekhyun shot Kyungsoo an evil smirk from his seat on the edge of the stage where he was tuning his bass. “Soo’s a fan.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. He was a fan. He loved their organ-heavy, retro sound. He loved being in Unit and playing with Jongdae and Baekhyun, but if he’d gone solo or started his own band, it’d probably sound a lot like Spygame.

Baekhyun’s smirk was for the time he’d walked in on Kyungsoo talking with Spygame’s organist in The Triple Rock’s greenroom. Baekhyun had given them a weird look and left the room without even saying hi. When Kyungsoo had tried to explain later -- Henry was selling his old Hammond organ, and Kyungsoo was interested in looking at it -- Baekhyun’d wiggled his eyebrows and made woo-sounds. “Checking out Henry’s organ” became an inside joke, and Baekhyun and Jongdae tormented him with it for months. Even Minseok snickered at it.

Jun looked amused as he finished setting up the stand for Jongdae’s snare drum. He handed it to Jongdae and said, “Then, Chanyeol plays right before you.”

Kyungsoo flicked his gaze between Baekhyun at the front and Jongdae at the back of the stage, trying to gauge their feelings about Chanyeol’s appearance in town and on the bill. They looked happy, and their excited grins didn’t fade into the grim expressions they’d worn right before Chanyeol moved away.

The three had been best friends since junior high. They were annoying troublemakers who were routinely kicked out of classes, school, and bars and restaurants. If they were together in a place that required quiet and polite behavior, it was only a matter of time before they’d be asked to leave.

Kyungsoo had been in the middle of the continuum between those who encouraged their shenanigans and those completely intolerant of their misbehavior. Chanyeol’s boyfriend/manager was hard-core in his intolerance. By the time Chanyeol moved with him to Austin, interactions with the Baekhyun and Jongdae were restricted to silent nods from across the room.

And Kyungsoo had always been there, watching from the wings. It sounded so creepy. He looked away and caught Jun regarding him with a curious look.

Kyungsoo plugged in his guitar and double-checked his tuning. How ridiculous would it be if someone after ten years had finally noticed his feelings for Chanyeol?

He ran his hand over the fretboard just feeling the strings under his fingertips. Then, he struck a chord and another. As he rearranged his fingers, he realized he was playing [“Norwegian Wood.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_V6y1ZCg_8) It had been the first song he’d learned when his parents had given in to his begging and bought him a guitar for his fifteenth birthday -- his begging that had begun after listening to Chanyeol play this song.

On his first day of high school, Kyungsoo had refused to wear his glasses in the hopes he’d leave his geeky reputation behind. The day had turned into a blur of dim grays until he walked into the choir room and found himself staring at cherry-red hair and the spark of a wide smile. He caught himself squinting to see better and looked away. Twenty seconds later, he was staring again. It’d been that way ever since.

He couldn’t help his feelings. He was drawn to the happiness and mischief in Chanyeol’s eyes, the loudness of his laugh, and the kindness of his words and actions. Chanyeol was unflagging optimism and enthusiasm. It wasn’t that he looked at the world through rose-colored glasses. He didn’t need a filter to see the best in others and the world around him. To him, that was just the world. And for Kyungsoo, Chanyeol was the world.

A few months later, Kyungsoo had discovered Chanyeol bent over his guitar, playing to the empty choir room. From his vantage point in the doorway, he could only see the top of Chanyeol’s head as he sat on a stool facing the empty room. The song was pretty and vaguely familiar, but Kyungsoo didn’t know its name or who’d written it. Worried about getting caught, he was about to walk away when Chanyeol looked up.

Kyungsoo’d thought he’d seen Chanyeol look happy before, but now he knew what joy looked like. Chanyeol’s smile was wide, but not stretched in a crazy grin. His eyes shone, but not with playfulness. Later, Kyungsoo would search the dictionary for words to describe the emotion he thought Chanyeol’d felt as he played. They were old-fashioned words he’d be embarrassed to say aloud like elation, euphoria, delight, and jubilation.

Standing in the doorway, his heart beat as loudly as the notes Chanyeol plucked from his guitar. He wanted to walk through the door and join Chanyeol, but he couldn’t move. How could he when he didn’t know how to play the guitar, how to start a conversation, or even the name of that song?

He told himself he could approach Chanyeol after he learned how to play that song and a dozen more and after he learned how to talk to strangers like Chanyeol’s loud friends. It took a year and a half before he finally felt ready. Then, in a conversation with those loud friends, he learned that Chanyeol was already dating someone. His boyfriend was older, successful, and had promised to make Chanyeol a star.

So Kyungsoo loved Chanyeol from a distance, and he was happy. He was happy because Chanyeol seemed happy in his love and his ambitions. Occasionally, Chanyeol reached out to him, invited him to be something more than just a classmate, a friend of a friend, but Kyungsoo kept his distance. He didn’t trust himself not to let his love show. The last thing he wanted to do was push his unwanted feelings on Chanyeol. Unlike the narrator of “Norwegian Wood,” Kyungsoo didn’t blame Chanyeol for not loving him back. He didn’t want to make him feel awkward or obligated, and he definitely didn’t want to hurt him.

He may not have had Chanyeol’s love, but he’d gained so much. If he hadn’t fallen in love with Chanyeol, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with music. Before Chanyeol, he sang in the choir because his mom wanted him to take an art elective. Now, music was his life, and it brought him something like the joy he had seen on Chanyeol’s face that day in the choir room.

There was no reason to think Jun had discovered Kyungsoo’s secret, but discovery was something he’d feared from the beginning. He was afraid that if someone else knew, he’d be forced to acknowledge the hopelessness of his feelings and be pressured to move on. As long as no one knew, Kyungsoo could keep this unspoken, unexpressed love forever.  

As he continued to play the intro, he vaguely noticed Baekhyun playing George Harrison’s sitar part on his bass.

“I once had a girl/Or should I say, she once had me?” Minseok sang as they transitioned into the first verse.

Kyungsoo looked up in surprise, and his ugly grin spread across his face -- the one that smushed his eyes into crescents and crinkled his nose. Each time Minseok sang, it was rare and precious. Nodes on his vocal cords had cut his career short, and he limited the amount he sang to preserve his voice. Kyungsoo’s grin changed into soft laughter when Jongdae and Jun’s voices joined Minseok.

He let the perfection of this moment wash over him -- the sweetness of the melody, the perfect harmony of Jongdae, Minseok, and Jun’s voices, the calm expression on hyperactive Baekhyun’s face, and the joy of creating art with the people he cared about. Silently, he thanked Chanyeol for opening the door to this world for him.

 

***

 

The moment may have been perfect, but it was also brief. Jun made the mistake of suggesting Unit play the song during the show and accidentally hitting play on the argument between Baekhyun and Jongdae over which songs to put on their setlist. It wasn’t Jun’s fault. He didn’t know they were opinionated assholes locked in a debate that would only end when the band broke up.

Kyungsoo’d learned to stay out of it. He’d stopped arguing for his favorite songs. Now his job was to pull his reporter’s notebook from his back pocket and write down the song titles Baekhyun and Jongdae threw at each other.

As the opening act for The 1975, they’d been playing a thirty-minute set. Their job had been to not piss off the audience while they waited for the band they’d paid $80 to see. If they made any new fans, that was just a bonus. Headlining a show at a medium-sized bar for an audience of friends and fans was a completely different gig. When they had first started headlining, Minseok had given them a few guidelines for filling a sixty-minute show -- include two or three covers, only play one or two new songs, and always give the audience what they want.

Once Baekhyun and Jongdae had named enough songs to fill ninety minutes, Kyungsoo decided to break up the fight. He quietly said the title of his choice for the first song and counted out the beat. Somehow Baekhyun and Jongdae heard him over their bickering and joined him with the first strum of his guitar.

“Life Will Write” was one of the first songs they’d written together, and it’d gone through multiple transformations as they’d slowly found their own sound. It was now one of their strongest pieces and definitely the most recognizable for the local audience. This was their first show since getting national recognition, and it felt right to declare they were still hometown boys and proud of it.

They didn’t need to run through the whole song, just the first verse and chorus. At nods of approval from both Jongdae and Baekhyun, Kyungsoo flipped to a fresh sheet of paper and wrote down the first song of their set.

He was just putting down his pen when he heard Baekhyun sing, “Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no.” When Jongdae joined in, Kyungsoo knew there was no point in protesting. Baekhyun lived to rearrange R&B and hip-hop songs for their indie rock trio and make Kyungsoo belt out upbeat declarations of love. He took a deep breath and added [“Crazy In Love”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ViwtNLUqkMY) as their second song. Since they hadn’t played it for a couple of months, they ran through the Beyonce cover a few times.

Kyungsoo tried to stay in the moment as they rehearsed. Instead, he examined each song, each verse, each chorus, break, and riff through his “Chanyeol Filter.” All he could think about was how it would sound to Chanyeol, what he would think of it, and how it would make him feel.

After his voice cracked _again_ , Kyungsoo asked for a break. He knew the songs were solid, the band was tight, and that for some reason, people liked his voice and the way he played. In the last year, he’d had more than enough validation from fans, reporters, and other musicians that he shouldn’t be questioning any of this. But his confidence ebbed as he scrutinized every detail and tried to make his performance perfect. He took a deep breath. He needed to calm the fuck down.

He managed to get through another forty-five minutes. He felt limp with relief when Baekhyun and Jongdae finally agreed the set was good enough. As Minseok looked over the list, Kyungsoo stretched his arms over his head hoping to ease the tension in his shoulders and neck.

He dropped his arms to his side.

_I’m not supposed to be here._

If Chanyeol hadn’t been lured away from their trio by his boyfriend’s promises of stardom, he would be standing on this stage with Baekhyun and Jongdae, not Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo was just the understudy who stepped in when the star left for a better role. Even when they’d named him lead singer, that feeling hadn’t gone away. Jongdae had a stronger voice and Baekhyun had more charisma than he did. This year as they’d gained fans and recognition, he’d thought he’d managed to bury these feelings, but --

_I really shouldn’t be here._

How did Baekhyun and Jongdae feel about sharing the stage with Chanyeol? Were they just excited to see an old friend, or did they wish things could have been different?

Baekhyun had moved to the back of the stage and was talking quietly with Jongdae. Kyungsoo caught Jongdae glancing at him. The smile Jongdae gave him was small and didn’t make it to his eyes.

And just like that, Kyungsoo was back to being the quiet kid standing in the doorway.

Kyungsoo pulled his guitar strap over his head. He had to get out of here.

He cleared his throat a few times as he tucked his strat in its case. When he was all packed up, he walked to the edge of the stage where Jun and Minseok looked over the setlist. “If you don’t need me to help move everything backstage, I’m gonna head out.” He cleared his throat again when Minseok frowned at him. “My folks were hoping we could have dinner before I had to be back here for the show.” He hated lying, especially to Minseok, but he didn’t feel like he had the time to negotiate or persuade. He needed to go. Now.

Minseok’s expression softened. “Go ahead. Just be here by six.” Minseok looked at Jun who nodded. “It’s a good set. You’re going to kill it tonight so just relax and enjoy your mom’s food.”

Jun put his hand on Kyungsoo’s guitar case. “Leave this here. I’ll make sure it’s safe until you return.”

Kyungsoo managed to give Minseok and Jun a genuine smile.

Before he jumped off the stage, Kyungsoo glanced back at Baekhyun and Jongdae. Deep in conversation, they weren’t looking at him and hadn’t noticed he’d packed up. He nodded to himself. They had more important things to think about. With one last forced smile, he left behind his guitar, his mentor, his manager, and his bandmates.

 

A/N:

The fic referenced as song title in this chapter is “Life Will Write The Words” by jumpthisship. 


	2. Chorus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and apologies to everyone who waited for me to finish this story. Just for full disclosure, if you’ve already read chapters 1-3, I went through and edited them a little. I just added links to the real-world songs mentioned in the story and fixed the clunkiest writing. The story hasn’t changed, so you don’t have to go back and reread unless you forgot what happened. 
> 
> So about song titles... Obviously, when characters in the story cover a song or hear a song by a real-world band, I’m using the real title of the real song by the real band. But when it’s a song written by characters in the story, I’m using the titles of chansoo fics I’ve loved and everyone should love. This might be confusing since often these titles are from the lyrics or titles of real-world songs. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks and apologies, again.

Raised to believe that if you were five minutes early, you were late, Kyungsoo walked into Westerberg’s at five-fifty for the six o’clock check-in. 

In order to avoid the green room, he’d changed out of his jeans and styled his hair in a gas station restroom. Empty handed and wearing a three-piece suit and shiny, black brogues, it was like he was a different person entering a different bar. Instead of the silent, empty room he’d found that afternoon, the bar was bustling with activity. Jun’s crew was hard at work getting the bar ready to open in an hour. Staff members cleaned and straightened the tables and chairs around the bar and next to the front windows. Behind the u-shaped bar, others stocked the cupboards with glasses and napkins, poured ice into the freezer, and filled the fridge with garnishes.

Yixing was the only staff member not wearing a black t-shirt with Westerberg’s printed on the back. He carried a clipboard and appeared to be counting the bottles that lined the shelves of the central island. He turned as Kyungsoo approached the bar and set the clipboard down. “Welcome back. Ready for something to drink? It’s on the house.”

Kyungsoo considered his options. He could get wasted. Drinking helped him lose his inhibitions, and the idea of not spending the whole night lost in anxious thoughts and second-guessing every word and action was pretty attractive.

He’d only played one gig while drunk, and once was enough. “If you could put some tap water in a glass with a slice of lime, that’d be great.”

Yixing shrugged. “Ice?”

Kyungsoo shrugged back.

That show had gone fine, kind of. Baekhyun had giggled every time Kyungsoo stumbled over his lyrics and howled with laughter at the lengthy, obscure anecdotes Jongdae told between songs. Luckily, the audience was indulgent and didn’t boo them off the stage. After their set, Jun told them how stupid they were, how they’d put the bar in jeopardy by making it look like they were giving drinks to minors, and how he regretted ever booking them.

Then, he’d introduced them to Minseok who hustled them out of the bar before they could get into more trouble. Over fries and runny chocolate shakes, he offered to manage them if they promised to do what he told them, when, and the way he told them to do it. Buzzing with guilt, booze, grease, and sugar, they’d agreed immediately.

Yixing set a medium-sized tumbler in front of him. “Find me when you need a refill. I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Kyungsoo took a sip. It was just water, ice, and lime. Kyungsoo smiled. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Yixing’s smirk brought out a dimple in his cheek.

“Are you flirting with the talent?” Jun slid onto the stool next to Kyungsoo. “I’ll take one of those,” he said and pointed at Kyungsoo’s glass.

Yixing grabbed his clipboard. “No,” he said over his shoulder as he walked to the other end of the bar.

Kyungsoo fought back a laugh at Jun’s grimace.

Jun shook his head, and his frown faded. “I didn’t show you the green room when you were here before. Do you want to go up? It’s pretty nice if I do say so myself, and everyone else is up there already.”

Kyungsoo’s stomach rolled at the thought of seeing “everyone else.”

Feedback sliced through the room, and Jun swiveled around to look at the stage. “Or would you rather help with soundcheck?”

Relieved, Kyungsoo nodded. He grabbed his glass and followed Jun. As they climbed the short stairs up to the stage, two kids walked out from behind the curtain.

“Let me introduce you to Jongin and Sehun.” He pointed at each as he said their names. “They’ll be working the lights and sound tonight.”

They both had to be over six-feet tall, and Kyungsoo might’ve been intimidated by their height and model-perfect looks if he hadn’t seen Jongin’s small smile before he ducked his head or the tiny quirk of Sehun’s lips when he raised his hand a few inches in what might have been a wave.

“Kyungsoo agreed to help with soundcheck. You ready for him or do you need help setting anything up?”

Sehun shook his head. “Everything’s plugged in and ready to go.” He was halfway through the curtain when he said, “I’ll grab his guitar.”

“And I’ll head up to the booth,” Jongin said, still staring at the floor.

“Wait,” Kyungsoo said as Jongin started to turn. He smiled when Jongin looked up him for a moment. “Any requests?”

Jongin blushed and twisted the toe of one of his combat boots against the floor. “Just whatever you want,” he said softly. He spun around and jogged off stage.

Kyungsoo shook his head as he took off his suit jacket and slung it over an amp next to his water glass. It’d been a while since he was that shy around strangers.

Sehun returned and handed Kyungsoo his guitar. “Why’d you choose a Strat instead of a Telecaster?”

“Sehun.” Jun’s voice was mild, but there was a hint of warning.

“Are you really asking, or do you just want to make a point?” Kyungsoo asked.

Sehun’s eyebrows rose. “Really asking.”

“Find me later. I’ll buy you a drink and tell you.”

Sehun jerked his chin up in agreement before he put on his headset and moved to the side of the stage.

Jun rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You have no idea what you just signed up for.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “That was me not long ago, remember?” He adjusted the strap of his guitar and slung it over his head.

“As if I could forget,” Jun said before he too left the center of the stage.

His guitar was still relatively in tune, so it took just a moment to make it playable. Kyungsoo stepped up to the mic as he let his fingertips slide up and down the fingerboard. “Testing. One, two, three.”

Sehun gave him a thumbs up. Then, he hopped off the stage to listen from the floor.

Not knowing what to play, he strummed an open E. After a moment, his fingers found a G, C, then A, the opening chords of Springsteen’s[ “Reason to Believe.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H49obsV6oZ0)

After leaving rehearsal, he'd plugged his phone into his car stereo and set his music player to shuffle. As he drove away, he chose when to turn and when to go straight as randomly as the app chose which song to play. He was barely aware when he left downtown and entered the suburb he’d grown up in. One song played after another without him noticing until a harmonica and guitar called to him like a train whistling in the distance. He pulled over next to the park where he’d played soccer and t-ball as a kid and stared at the empty playground as Bruce Springsteen sang about fools clinging to false hopes and dreams that would never come true.

After the song ended, he’d dialed his mom’s phone number. He’d never minded when Baekhyun called him a mama’s boy. He loved his parents. They were kind and hardworking and had supported him as a musician. His mom told him what she was cooking for dinner and about the movie she was forcing his dad to watch later. His dad took over the phone to let him know he wanted to see  _ The Handmaiden _ . He’d heard it was provocative, and he wanted to be provoked.

Just like that, Kyungsoo felt grounded again. If he had to leave the band and lost Baekhyun, Jongdae, and music and finally resolved his feelings for Chanyeol, the world wouldn’t end. There were people he loved who loved him.

He’d returned to Westerberg’s still feeling anxious, but telling himself his fear was just in his head, in his heart. He’d returned because he was committed to Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Minseok and owed Jun a great, opening-night show. If he could, he’d do right by the people he cared about. If feeling this pain and worry were the cost of his hopeless dream, he’d pay that price.

He’d learned to play “Reason To Believe” while listening to  _ Nebraska _ on his headphones, and it was weird not to have Springsteen's guitar and harmonica playing in the background with him.

Soundcheck was all about finding a balance, trying to make everyone happy. Could the musicians hear each other on stage? Was the volume too low in the back corner or so loud no one could hear themselves think on the right? Were the guitars drowning out the vocals, or were the drums all anyone could hear? As Kyungsoo sang the first verse, Sehun walked around the room muttering into his headset and Jongin adjusted the volume and balance from the booth on the second floor.

The second verse was about a woman clinging to the hope that her lover would return. Kyungsoo closed his eyes because with them open all he could see were similarities between her hard work and pointless devotion and his own.

At the end of the second chorus, he was ready to stop playing and plug into a different amp. Instead, a harmonica started playing the solo.

His eyes flew open. Baekhyun and Jongdae stood to the left of the stage, and with them, Chanyeol played the harmonica. His eyes were closed -- he almost always closed his eyes while he played and opened them again when he sang -- and his whole body moved as he played, not wildly, but with the slight bending at the waist and tapping of his foot.

Kyungsoo’s mind blanked, but his hands kept moving as he played under Chanyeol’s solo. In all the years they’d known each other, Kyungsoo had never played with Chanyeol. In high school, they’d been in choir together, but they sang in different sections. And of course, they were never in the band with Baekhyun and Jongdae at the same time.

But he’d dreamed of playing with him. That had been the reason he’d learned to play in the first place. Eventually, painfully, he’d labeled that dream as hopeless. Now he let the lingering disappointment and pain from the past wash away in a flood of happiness. His wish was coming true, and he was going to enjoy it.

Chanyeol finished playing, opened his eyes, and gazed at him, and Kyungsoo’s heartbeat matched the force and tempo of each strum of his pick across the strings of his guitar.

The only way this could get better was if Chanyeol were on stage next to him. Kyungsoo jerked his chin toward the second mic, hoping Chanyeol would take the invitation. And he did. Grinning, Chanyeol loped to the other side of the stage and climbed the stairs. It didn’t match the mood of the song, but Kyungsoo couldn’t help smiling when Chanyeol finally stood beside him.

On the album, the harmonica part didn’t pick up again until the end of the song, but he couldn’t turn away from Chanyeol. He wanted to see how he reacted to the song. Did he approve of Kyungsoo’s voice and the way he played the guitar? For a moment, he wished he’d picked something else to play, something that would show off his vocal range and how much he’d improved with the guitar. But even if the music wasn’t very complicated, the tune was catchy, and Chanyeol rocked back and forth and nodded to the beat.

His eyes were closed through most of the song, but as Kyungsoo sang about a man watching the river rush by on his wedding day, he opened them. Their eyes met, and Kyungsoo had no clue how to read the emotions he saw there. He did recognize the pain in Chanyeol’s eyes. He’d seen it often the year before Chanyeol moved to Austin. Was his relationship with his boyfriend still as toxic as it had been before they moved, or had they resolved their problems? And where was his boyfriend? It was unlike him to let Chanyeol go somewhere alone.

But the time was rushing by just like the river in the song. Kyungsoo sang the refrain for the last time, and Chanyeol raised his harmonica. They nodded together as the final note left Kyungsoo's mouth, and Chanyeol began to play again. The music was still simple, and the outro was much too short, but Kyungsoo felt as though electricity coursed through his body each time Chanyeol looked in his eyes, each time he nodded in response to something Kyungsoo did. It only lasted thirty-some seconds, but it felt weighty enough to hold onto. If this was all he had, it was enough.

The applause at the end of the song surprised him. Henry and the guys from Spygame stood near the stairs to the stage, and a dozen women -- probably the members of Polly in the Pocket -- sat at the tables near the windows.

Panic echoed through him. He was used to pretending to bare his soul in front of an audience, but at this moment, he felt truly naked. How much of himself had he revealed to Chanyeol, to Baekhyun and Jongdae and everyone else?

He needed to…

Disappearing was impossible since he’d made a promise to Jun…

Denial wasn’t an option. He couldn’t trust himself to talk about it without giving the truth away…

Deflection...

He cleared his throat and unplugged his guitar from the amp. Frantically, he looked around the room to find Sehun and saw him standing next to Jun by the front door. “Sorry about that Sehun. I should have been paying more attention. What amp do you want me to plug into next?” He kept himself from turning to watch Chanyeol disappear backstage.

The rest of soundcheck proceeded in a businesslike way, and thankfully, his audience wandered away. While he played snippets of songs, his panic ebbed, but it was replaced by sadness. That dream had been fulfilled, but would that have been enough for fourteen-year-old Kyungsoo? It had been just one of a cluster of goals -- impress Chanyeol, play together, get to know him, be his friend, be his boyfriend. Since he was sixteen, every iteration of Kyungsoo had understood that those dreams probably wouldn’t come true.

But now, one had, and the brilliance of that moment cast the other dreams further into the shadows. He couldn’t regret that it’d happened. He just wished that the joy and gratitude he felt didn’t have to be balanced with as much regret and disappointment.

He checked the time after he returned his guitar to its case. He had twenty-five minutes before the bar opened. He gazed at the exit sign over the door in the back corner. He just needed some fresh air and a moment alone.

He’d almost made it to the door when he heard the sound of metal hitting wood. He turned around to see a blushing Sehun and an empty mic stand laying on the floor.

Sehun picked it up while looking at Kyungsoo out of the corner of his eye. “Um, you said I could bother you…” His voice trailed off as though uncertain, but his expression was expectant.

A few minutes later, Kyungsoo was sandwiched between Sehun and Jongin at the bar. He handed Yixing his glass for a refill. “I’ll buy something for Sehun and Jongin as well.”

Yixing’s judgmental gaze focused on the techs. “They’re underage.”

“Do you want water, soda, or juice?” Kyungsoo asked Jongin.

Jongin’s eyes were wide, and his lower lip jutted. “Orange juice, please.”

Kyungsoo turned toward Sehun in time to see the tail end of a massive eye-roll. He chuckled. “And you?”

“Coke.”

It took less than ten minutes for a quiet discussion about how to know which guitar was the right one for you to deteriorate into a heated debate between Sehun and Jongin.

They reminded him of Baekhyun and Jongdae bickering endlessly over their choice of the greatest debut album -- The Sex Pistols’  _ Never Mind The Bullocks _ or The Clash’s self-titled album. Kyungsoo stayed out of it, just as he did with all of Baekhyun and Jongdae’s arguments. It wasn’t that he didn’t have opinions. He loved his Strat American Standard, and Patti Smith proved she was a poetic genius with  _ Horses _ . He just didn’t see why others had to be wrong for him to be right.

He sat as far back on his barstool as he could without falling off and let Sehun and Jongin’s argument pass around him without touching him.

The debate widened to include Wendy and Irene from Polly In The Pocket. When Spygame’s lead singer and drummer, Eric and Dean, joined in, Kyungsoo found a way out of the conversation. He suggested that they find a table where they could all sit but failed to leave the bar with them. He was about to make his escape out the front door when two more members of Polly asked him to sign their copies of the show poster.

He didn’t manage to get away from them before Minseok arrived. He inspected Kyungsoo like a mean girl checking out the new kid. “I like this suit. The gray with the red running through it looks good, very classic. Is it new? You need to button the jacket and straighten your tie. Doors open in ten, so let’s head to the green room now.”

Kyungsoo looked down to hide his frown as he buttoned his jacket over his waistcoat and adjusted his sleeves. He was never getting out of this bar was he? All he wanted was a minute to feel happy, disappointed, afraid, and elated without a damn audience.

Typically, he gave in to Minseok’s pre-show micromanagement, but today he couldn’t. He couldn’t go to the green room as long as Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Chanyeol were up there. And if he couldn’t get a moment alone, he needed to distract himself. Small talk with strangers sounded like the perfect antidote to his anxiety. “I’m going to stay down here if that’s okay," he said with his chin tilted up as Minseok straightened his tie for him. "It’ll be good to see everyone after being out of town for so long.”

Minseok frowned, and his eyes narrowed at him. “Okay, but -- ” He stopped and shook his head. “I don’t need to tell you to keep your head on straight.” He dusted Kyungsoo’s shoulder free of imaginary dust.

As he stepped away, he was replaced by one of Jun’s waitstaff with a flier he wanted to be signed. Until the doors opened, the rest of Kyungsoo’s time was filled with small talk and sips from his glass of water.

As the bouncer let in the first guests, Jun stood behind the bar with Yixing, tapping his fingers on the counter and staring at the door. The third time he got in the way of filling a drink order, Yixing snapped him in the ass with a wet rag. “Go card people or leave or something. Just get the hell out of here.”

Without looking away from the door, Jun said, “You’re the worst employee I’ve ever hired. Why haven’t I fired you?”

“Because I’m sleeping with you. Now go before I quit.”

Jun nodded as though he was considering the consequences of not complying. After tapping his fingers for another fifteen or twenty seconds, he snorted and left. He didn’t make it more than five feet before he was stopped for a handshake and a hug. He had no reason to worry. There was a steady stream of guests entering the bar, and everyone looked excited to be here.

Kyungsoo was just turning back to Yixing after watching Jun when a woman approached him. Her smile was a little too wide, and it didn’t reach her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder before holding out her hand. “Hey, Kyungsoo. I was in a few classes with you at the U. You probably don’t remember me. Anyway, I just wanted to say congratulations on your record deal. I read about it in the City Pages.”

Kyungsoo shook her hand and smiled. He knew it probably didn’t reach his eyes either. “Thanks so much. It means a lot to have everyone’s support.”

She turned and waved, and several more women crowded around them. “We’re all so excited to see you play tonight. What was it like meeting the guys from The 1975?”

“Did you meet any other celebrities,” another woman asked.

Maybe he should have been bored or offended, but he was grateful for their invasive, overly familiar questions. They were keeping him from obsessing over everything -- his feelings for Chanyeol, his worries about the future of the band, and his guesses about what people had figured out from the soundcheck.

The women were replaced by a couple of older guys he’d seen at almost every show he’d been to since he’d turned twenty-one. They were followed by the drummer of a band Unit had opened for years ago, and so on. He focused on each interaction with fans, other musicians, the owner of the Cabooze who wanted to know when Unit would be back in circulation, and a reporter from The Daily who asked if he was available for an interview. Most just wanted to shake his hand or get his signature on their ticket stub or flier. A few offered to buy him drinks, but he had Yixing’s glass of water as an excuse for declining.

During a brief pause in the flow of supporters, the weight of all their expectations and assumptions hit him. They wanted -- they needed -- him and Unit to succeed. For whatever reason, they’d hitched some piece of their ego to his wagon and expected him to make them feel better about themselves. He was their brush with fame or their "I knew him when” story. A few wanted Unit’s success to translate into success for the local scene. Unit was their poster boy and gave them credibility by association.

Under other circumstances, all this attention might have gone to his head, but at this moment it was suffocating. He had no idea what would happen after tonight. He didn’t know why his mind kept going there, but he hadn’t felt this much like a replaceable replacement since Unit’s first gig.

He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket out of habit.

As soon as they’d booked that first show with Jun, Baekhyun’d started picking on Kyungsoo during rehearsals. Nothing was good enough, not his singing, not his playing. Then, the criticism expanded to his clothes, hair, glasses, and posture. There was even something wrong with the way he smiled. Under the stress of trying to fix everything Baekhyun pointed out, Kyungsoo stopped eating and lost weight.

He’d finally broke down when his mom asked him why he wouldn’t eat her food anymore. Embarrassed, he didn’t want to admit to everything. She’d been so proud of him when he’d been invited to join the band. So he only told her that Baekhyun said he dressed like a grandpa. After laughing at him, she suggested that he show Baekhyun what a grandpa dressed like. If he didn't like, he'd be out a guitarist and lead singer.

When he’d knocked on Baekhyun’s door the afternoon of their gig wearing his biggest, dorkiest glasses and dressed in his grandpa’s mustard-colored, three-piece suit, he'd expected to be kicked out of the band. Instead, Baekhyun excitedly pulled up a picture of David Bowie in a similar suit. From that day on, Jongdae would sing the chorus from Bowie’s [“Queen Bitch”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_ayFz62eYE) whenever Baekhyun harassed Kyungsoo about his clothes.

Kyungsoo had worn a three-piece suit and glasses for every gig since then. As he grew hot under the stage lights, he’d take off his jacket and tie and roll up his sleeves. It became something the band was known for, and Minseok had forbidden him from wearing anything else.

The suit he was wearing tonight was a gift from his parents to congratulate him for recording the album and touring with The 1975. It was his first time being fitted for a suit instead of buying something off the rack. It was good that he got to wear it once.

His breath caught in his throat and his chest ached. He hooked his index finger into his collar and tugged at his tie.

At the brush of someone's hand on his arm, he looked up to see Henry. He concentrated on Henry's small smile and not the sympathy in his eyes.

“If you have time while you’re in town, why don’t you hang out with my friends and me. You could check out my new Hammond, and we could play a little.”

Kyungsoo took a deep breath, and it felt like his first in a long time. Hanging out with people he had no history with sounded like the best thing ever. He drew another breath. And they  _ wanted _ to play with him.

Henry pointed toward the ceiling. “Why don’t we head up to the green room. It was empty the last time I was up there.”

Two bearded guys hovered to the right of Henry, and just beyond them a cluster of women stared in his direction. He really needed to not be a "rockstar" for a moment, and if the green room was empty... He grabbed his drink and finally left the bar.

Henry turned down the hallway on the far side of the stage. Behind a door labeled “Employees Only” were stairs to the second floor. As they climbed, Henry said, “So my friends play in a jazz band--three horn players and a bassist. We’ve been talking about getting together to play R&B. You know, Sam and Dave and Al Green, stuff from the sixties and seventies. With you to sing and play guitar, we just need someone on drums.”

There were two doors at the top of the stairs. Henry opened the door on the right and gestured for Kyungsoo to enter first.

Inside the room, a deep voice said, “I don’t know if things will ever be straightened out between us.”

Kyungsoo halted in the doorway. Baekhyun and Chanyeol sat together on a sofa. Their backs were to the door, and their bodies were angled toward each other.

Jongdae sat across from them in a recliner. “No matter what happens, I’m glad you’re moving back. We’ve missed you.”

Even from behind and at a distance, Kyungsoo could tell Chanyeol was smiling.

“Thanks. It’s going to be great playing with you guys again.”

At the sound of a thunk, Kyungsoo looked down at his feet. His glass lay on its side on the carpeted floor. A maroon spot grew on the red rug as water soaked into the wool.

The glass wasn’t broken. It should have broke, right? It should have shattered into a hundred pieces.

He picked it up and stuck the lime wedge and ice cubes back into it. Then, he let his gaze travel to Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Chanyeol. They’d turned and stared back at him. For three people who were loud and talkative, their silence felt solid, more solid than the glass in his hand.

It was fragile and transparent. It had survived one fall, but he didn’t think it would survive another.

He turned back to the door and Henry. “Let’s head back down. I should let someone know I made a mess up here.”

Henry frowned as though he was confused or angry. Kyungsoo gave him a crooked smile as he walked through the door. He gripped the glass tightly, headed down the stairs, and didn’t turn around at the sound of Baekhyun’s “Soo” or Jongdae’s “wait.”


	3. Motif

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and apologies to everyone who waited for me to finish this story. Just for full disclosure, if you’ve already read chapters 1-3, I went through and edited them a little. I just added links to the real-world songs mentioned in the story and fixed the clunkiest writing. The story hasn’t changed, so you don’t have to go back and reread unless you forgot what happened. 
> 
> So about song titles... Obviously, when characters in the story cover a song or hear a song by a real-world band, I’m using the real title of the real song by the real band. But when it’s a song written by characters in the story, I’m using the titles of chansoo fics I’ve loved and everyone should love. This might be confusing since often these titles are from the lyrics or titles of real-world songs. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks and apologies, again.

As they exited the back hallway, Eric, Spygame’s lead singer, intercepted them. The look he gave Kyungsoo as he pulled Henry away was angry and scornful. Kyungsoo stopped and watched for a moment. What had he done to earn that look? Eric held a half-sheet of paper and thrust it at Henry’s chest. Henry took it, and his eyebrows furrowed as he read it.

Kyungsoo sighed and looked down at the glass in his hand. It was empty except for the lime wedge and half-melted ice cubes. It may not have been broken, but now it wasn't good for anything more than holding trash. He could only clean up one mess at a time. He'd figure out what had pissed off Eric and put that look on Henry's face after he told someone about the spill in the green room.

All the stools at the bar were filled, so he joined the crowd waiting to be served at the round end of the u-shaped bar. When someone pushed between him and the man in front of him, he was forced to back up and bumped into someone. He turned to apologize and saw he'd knocked into one of the waitstaff. Thankfully, her tray was empty, and he hadn't caused her to spill her drinks. Her angry expression flipped into a too-friendly smile.

Kyungsoo winced. All he wanted to do was apologize. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Were you trying to get a drink?” She pointed at his empty glass. “I’ll take that and get you whatever you want.”

She was clearly busy and was only offering because he was in the band. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t mind waiting. He tried to dredge up the energy to do the right thing, but he was exhausted. “Yeah. Uh, I wanted to let someone know I spilled water on the rug in the green room, and I’d love a beer. I’ll try whatever you recommend.”

“I know just what you’d like. Be right back, sugar,” she said with a wink.

God, did she think he was flirting with her? He sighed again and turned toward the stage. From his vantage point, he could see Wendy and another band member pulling toys out of a box and putting them on a cloth-covered table.

A hand waved in front of his face, and he jerked his head back in surprise.

A dimple-free Yixing held out another glass of a clear liquid with ice and a lime. “What are you doing bothering my staff members? I thought I told you I’d take care of you tonight.”

Kyungsoo accepted the glass reluctantly. “I just wanted a beer.” He took a sip. Water.

“You don’t want a beer,” Yixing said. “I’ve let all the other bartenders know what your standing order is, so don’t ask anyone else.”

“I’m not an alcoholic, Yixing. I just didn’t want to drink -- ”

“That’s right. You didn’t want to drink, and I’m making your wish come true. You can thank me later. Right now I’m too busy,” Yixing said and walked away.

Kyungsoo lifted the glass and stared at it. Another fragile thing to take care of.

“Kyungsoo,” a voice said from behind him.

Recognizing Baekhyun’s voice, Kyungsoo’s shoulders fell. He didn’t want to deal with this now. He stiffened his spine and stood up straight. He didn’t want to deal with this now.

The spot Yixing had stood in was still open, and Baekhyun could have moved into it. He didn't. Was it that he didn't want to talk face-to-face, or was he waiting for Kyungsoo to turn and face him? This felt like one of Baekhyun and Jongdae's arguments over the setlist and best album. Would Baekhyun win if he forced Kyungsoo to turn around? Usually, Kyungsoo didn’t play these games with Baekhyun and Jongdae. The glass of ice water felt cold in his hand. He always just did what they wanted. What would happen if he didn’t turn around and face Baekhyun? He took a sip of water and waited.

Baekhyun cleared his throat and said, “We need to talk. Come back to the green room.”

That was one question answered. Baekhyun preferred to talk to his back rather than stand where Kyungsoo could see him. And now he wanted Kyungsoo to go to the green room so they could talk. If it were like every other "talk" they’d had since high school, Baekhyun and Jongdae would talk, and Kyungsoo would listen and try to do whatever they told him to do.

The bar thrummed with conversation, laughter, and the 80’s garage rock mix playing over the PA. A steady stream of people moved between the main floor and the bar. Kyungsoo felt as though he and Baekhyun stood on an island around which the noise and traffic flowed. This feeling of isolation gave him the courage to attempt another experiment. What would Baekhyun do if Kyungsoo didn’t agree to go with him and talk? He shook his head and said, “Now isn’t a good time for me.”

“Not a good time?” Baekhyun said each word slowly, carefully, as though he were speaking to a small child.

Spurred on by Baekhyun’s reaction, he said, “Anytime before now would have been a good time. Now feels a little too late. Or maybe it’s too early.”

“Soo,” Baekhyun said with the irritated condescension of a teacher scolding a student, not the concern of a friend trying to clear up a misunderstanding.

"You and Jongdae plan and do whatever you want, and I'm just the replacement who always obeys. But you don't get to decide this. I'm not talking to you now. If you don't want to explain to Minseok and Jun why Unit why I quit, you -- " He clamped his mouth shut, startled that he'd actually said what he was thinking. He’d worked so damn hard and done everything they’d asked of him, but now it was all falling apart. Standing on the edge of the unknown made him feel reckless. “Maybe that’s what you want. Keep talking, Baekhyun, and tell me you're planning to replace the replacement.”

“Fine, we’ll talk later, but -- ”

“Later.” His chest and throat muscles were so tense, his voice came out harsh and raspy. He paused and waited -- for Baekhyun to say something else, for him to finally move to face Kyungsoo, even for him to walk away -- but he did nothing.

Kyungsoo took this as his cue to leave. He worked his way through the crowd to stand near the stage. Even as people jostled against each other in the packed room, he felt isolated and alone.

“Have you seen Polly in the Pocket before?” the woman next to him asked.

Relieved to have someone to talk to, he turned with a smile and recognized her immediately. CL was an important figure in the local scene. She had a weekly column in The Star Tribune and hosted the rush hour slot on the indie radio station. Years ago, they’d been introduced at a party. She’d called him “kid” and included him in her conversation with an A&R guy from EMI.

He shook his head. “Nope. Just heard them on the radio. If I'd known they were playing tonight, I would’ve listened to their album.”

“Yeah, the third track off their EP is getting a lot of airplay. If that’s all you’ve heard, you’re missing out on the context of the song.”

“So, it’s a concept album...”

“Yeah, it’s the coming-of-age story of a college freshman from moving into the dorms to going home for Christmas break.” She extended her hand. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m CL. Jun introduced us a few years ago.”

He couldn't stop his ugly smile from spreading across his face. “Of course I remember. You gave me my first and last cigar.”

She laughed and punched his shoulder. “You remember that?”

“It was disgusting. How could I forget?”

“You’ve done well since we talked last.” She tilted her head as she examined his face. Her eyes grew serious. “How’re you doing?”

The rush of gratitude at her kindness brought with it emotions he didn’t want to feel right now. He tried to swallow them down.

She turned and looked at the stage. “Whatever’s coming next, it isn’t going to be easy. The only thing you can control is you, kid. Don’t twist yourself into something you don’t recognize trying to fit in. If you aren’t solidly yourself, you’re not going to make it.” She cleared her throat and turned back to him. "So take care of yourself, okay?

He struggled to say something intelligent, but all he could manage was a sigh.

“Hey, that was good advice. And it didn’t come for free.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a business card. “I expect a call from you or Minseok. The programming manager and I want you on for an interview and a micro-show.”

While he tucked the card in his pocket, Jun took the stage. For the first time in a long time, Kyungsoo noticed how attractive he was. Standing on stage, he had the presence of a rockstar. The audience erupted in shouts, whistles, and applause. Kyungsoo cupped his hands around his mouth and chanted “Jun, Jun, Jun” with the others in the crowd. Jun tilted his head back and laughed.

“Thanks, guys. Seriously, thank you all for coming out and supporting Westerberg’s. You all know what this bar has meant to me over the years, and I’m glad  you all could be here for our opening night show.” He smiled at the burst of shouting and clapping. When it died down, he said, “We have a great line-up for you tonight. Please give a warm welcome to Boston’s Polly in the Pocket.” He swung out his arm, and the members of Polly took the stage.

There were only nine members of the band, not a dozen like Kyungsoo had thought. They obviously enjoyed playing together and were having fun. The two members at the table added the sound of toy truck engines, baby rattles, and the clicking of a viewfinder toy to the melody played on the guitar, keyboard, and ukuleles. They didn’t have a lead vocalist. They either sang together as a chorus or took turns like the members of a k-pop girl group. It made the songs feel more universal. They were all a college freshman coping with loneliness and learning how to be an adult.

They were finishing their third song when somebody crowded into Kyungsoo’s side and slung their arm around his shoulders. He tried to pull away as he turned his head to see who was invading his space.

Minseok’s face was just inches from Kyungsoo's. His jaw was clenched so tightly the muscles under his ear bulged. Feeling his hands begin to shake, Kyungsoo closed his left hand into a fist and tightened his grip on his water glass with his right. He’d seen Minseok angry before but never at him. What had he done to make Minseok like this? He took a deep, shaky breath.

With his hands on Kyungsoo's shoulders, Minseok forced him to turn toward the far side of the bar and take a step forward. Kyungsoo stumbled but avoided bumping into CL. A surge of embarrassment swept away some of his fear. Why would Minseok treat him this way? No matter what he’d done, no matter how angry Minseok was, he didn’t deserve to be pushed around and embarrassed.

As he slipped through the crowd, Minseok’s hands never left his shoulders. Once they reached the back hallway, Minseok shoved him forward one more time before brushing by him.

He realized he was still holding his water glass and considered leaving it behind. There weren't any waitstaff around to hand it too, and he didn't want to leave it on the floor to be kicked over or broken. He'd have to bring it along wherever Minseok was taking him. For the first time since Minseok had offered to be Unit’s manager over McDonald's fries, he didn’t want to follow where Minseok led. That feeling didn’t change even when Minseok went through the back door into the alley instead of up the stairs to the green room.

After the bright, stage lights and loud music in the bar, the quiet darkness of the alley was jarring. The only light came from a streetlamp halfway down the block, and the sound of music was muffled by the bar’s thick, brick walls.

With much of his face cast in shadow, Minseok looked even angrier and more intimidating than he had in the bar.

Though he was afraid of the answer, Kyungsoo needed to understand what he’d done to make Minseok so angry at him. He drew another shaky breath and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Minseok’s tone of voice was mocking. “Baekhyun and Jongdae are freaking out in the green room. You need to get over yourself and fix whatever is the matter.”

The air left his lungs in a whoosh as though Minseok had tackled him and left him gasping on the asphalt. Had he heard that right?  At a loss, he said, “What? Why…” He trailed off as Minseok’s eyes narrowed at him.

“What is your problem tonight? You’ve been acting like a diva all day. First, you leave early from rehearsal. And when you get back, you won’t hang out with Baekhyun and Jongdae. Instead, you hold court at the bar and let people come and pay their respects to you. I’d thought you were the one who would keep their head when they got successful. I am so disappointed in you.”

Each word felt like a knife. He’d worked so hard to earn Minseok’s approval and respect, but after one night, Minseok took it all back. Maybe he'd never had them in the first place. And what he'd done -- choosing to sit at the bar and not giving in to Baekhyun and Jongdae -- was it really that bad? Did it warrant this much anger?

He drew in a lungful of air. No. He exhaled. Nothing he’d done tonight deserved this much anger. It wasn't his fault that Minseok was angry. And if he hadn't made Minseok angry, was there anything he could do to calm him down?

For the second time since entering the alley, the world shifted under his feet.

He’d heard people say, “You can’t control what other people do or feel," more times than he could count. Hell, CL had told him something like that minutes ago. Hearing it always made him feel powerless and vulnerable, and he would dismiss it without really considering what it meant. He just needed to work harder to please everyone, and they'd...

They’d what? He stifled the urge to laugh at himself. What exactly did he think he was getting others to do? Like him? Approve of him? Never leave him?

His grip on the water glass tightened for a moment then relaxed. For the first time, he felt free at the thought that he had no control. The painful tension he'd felt in his chest and throat since his talk with Baekhyun eased, and he sighed with relief.

Minseok widened his eyes momentarily. Then, he shook his head and stared down the alley.

They stood together in silence until Kyungsoo realized the music had switched from Polly to an 80's garage band. By some terrible coincidence, Hüsker Dü's ["Never Talking To You Again"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e6CY-bRO0Yk) was playing over the PA.  

Kyungsoo pulled the business card out of his pocket and held it out to Minseok. “CL wants Unit to go in for an interview and micro-show. You should talk to your members about it.”

Minseok turned and looked at the card but didn’t take it. Kyungsoo hadn’t thought he could be more surprised, but somehow he was. Minseok could be harsh when he got fed up with Baekhyun and Jongdae’s bickering and roughhousing, but he was always professional when it came to promoting Unit. Kyungsoo’s mind spun uselessly, trying to figure out how to deal with Minseok’s refusal to take the card or look Kyungsoo in the eye. Then, he remembered. He didn’t have to do anything.

He put CL’s card back in his pocket and leaned against the wall next to the door. What would Minseok do next? He was curious, but also a little afraid. The fear made his throat feel dry, and he took a small sip of water.

That seemed to trigger something in Minseok. He strode across the alley, pulled open the door, and disappeared inside the bar.

A voice in Kyungsoo’s head shouted at him to chase after Minseok, but he didn't give in to it. He couldn’t fix anything if he tried.

He tipped his head back and looked up at the slice of sky between Westerberg's and the warehouse across the alley. Light pollution kept him from seeing the stars, but he knew they were up there. They felt more real than the asphalt under his feet or the brick wall against his back.

He was still afraid of Minseok’s anger, of Baekhyun and Jongdae’s betrayal, and of Chanyeol’s discovery of his feelings. But that fear was counterbalanced by curiosity and a frisson of excitement. Now that he wasn’t weighed down by the obsessive need to fix everything -- everybody -- he felt untethered and feather-light, as though anything could send him flying through the dark-gray sky to join the unseen stars.


	4. Bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and apologies to everyone who waited for me to finish this story. Just for full disclosure, if you’ve already read chapters 1-3, I went through and edited them a little. I just added links to the real-world songs mentioned in the story and fixed the clunkiest writing. The story hasn’t changed, so you don’t have to go back and reread unless you forgot what happened. 
> 
> So about song titles... Obviously, when characters in the story cover a song or hear a song by a real-world band, I’m using the real title of the real song by the real band. But when it’s a song written by characters in the story, I’m using the titles of chansoo fics I’ve loved and everyone should love. This might be confusing since often these titles are from the lyrics or titles of real-world songs. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks and apologies, again.

**Henry**

 

Eric was a complete fucking asshole.

It was Henry’s turn to babysit, and he’d been exiled backstage with Eric while the rest of the band set up on stage. He leaned against the wall and watched Eric jump, grab hold of and hang from a rafter for a moment before falling back to the floor before jumping again. He’d bet anything Eric would spend half their set dangling from the rafters on stage.

Eric was a good front man. He had a strong voice with a decent range, but in the last year he’d decided to go glam-diva on them -- complete with tight, satin pants and scoop neck shirts. While that worked for Luke Spiller of The Struts, this wasn’t London, and they weren’t selling out festivals. His attitude had always been a problem, but the tantrum he’d thrown tonight…  

They couldn’t afford to alienate the dudes at Westerberg’s or the guys from Unit, and that’s just what Eric had done when he refused to be gracious about tonight’s mix-up. It was just one song, and Spygame could only win by letting Unit cover it for their encore. Henry knew for a fact that Eric actually preferred singing [“Gimme Shelter.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbmS3tQJ7Os)

“What’s he doing back here?” Eric jerked his head toward the back of the room, and Henry turned to see Kyungsoo crouched over an open guitar case and talking to one of the chicks from Polly.

He was such a small guy. Micro. The cut of his suit accentuated his narrow shoulders and skinny arms and legs. Back when Spygame and Unit were just starting out and competing for the same gigs, all the guys had talked trash about Kyungsoo’s suits and how they could take him in a fight. But show after show, he’d made them all look like idiots. On stage, tiny Kyungsoo Doh looked like he’d stepped out of a James Bond movie, cool and dominant, and he had the voice and the chops to back up the image.

Five years later, Unit had a major label record coming out and would be going on a nationwide tour to support it. Spygame billed third at a local show, and they couldn’t afford to piss those guys off. Henry had been working hard to show Kyungsoo he was a good guy, a friendly guy he could trust, and he wasn’t going to let Eric ruin that.

He pushed away from the wall and knocked his shoulder against Eric’s as he walked past him. “I’ll be right back.”

Kyungsoo had replaced the drink he’d dropped in the green room and was taking a sip when Henry reached him.

He put on a big smile and said, “Hey, I just wanted to apologize for disappearing on you earlier. And you don’t need to worry about the cover mix-up. Eric can be a dick, but it’s really no big deal.”

“Cover mix-up?” Kyungsoo furrowed his brow.

Was that anger or confusion? Was it real confusion or pretend? Henry went with real because that’s what a friendly nice-guy would do. “Uh, yeah, you know we were going to cover your encore, but now we’re not.”

Now the brows shot up like Kyungsoo was surprised. “Oh, I didn’t know that.” He smiled. “You guys were going to cover “For The Words?” Wow. I never thought about our songs being covered. Cool.”

“What?” Henry felt his own eyebrows furrowing. “No, we were going to cover--”

“Henry,” Eric yelled from the other side of the room. When Henry looked back, Eric jerked his thumb at the stage curtain. It was time to go on.

Henry turned back to him, and Kyungsoo grinned and said, “Good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Still confused about the cover misunderstanding, his voice wasn’t as friendly and confident as he wanted to sound. He lifted his hand to wave but dropped it. Waving might be friendly, but it was also lame. He turned and stalked back to Eric who was tapping his foot like it was Henry’s fault they’d been stuck backstage. He blocked Eric from heading through the stage curtain. “What’s the deal with the cover. Kyungsoo didn’t seem to know what’s going.”

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Eric punched his arm. Hard. “It’s supposed to be a surprise for him or something. Fuck. They're going to hate us if you ruined the stupid surprise.”

Dean stuck his head through the curtain. “What the hell is wrong with you guys? Let’s go.”

Henry groaned in frustration as he pushed through the curtain. He didn’t know what was going on, but at least Kyungsoo didn’t seem mad at him. His nice-guy image was intact. He could figure out the rest as it happened.

 

**Jun**

 

Fucking finally. Whatever had what’s-his-face-the-organist delaying the start of their set, he seemed to have pulled himself together. After a countdown from that asshole-singer-Eric, Spygame started their set.

Jun’s gaze flicked from the stage to his watch. They were only a couple of minutes behind schedule. The tall guy from Austin could be counted on to start his set on time, so his show hadn’t been ruined yet. But as far as booking Spygame again, they might not be worth it. They’ve been around for years and should know how the business works. You don’t fuck with the headliner’s setlist and you don’t mess with Jun Kim’s schedule.

Jun Kim’s schedule. Jun let the corners of his mouth turn up. Westerberg’s was his, and he wasn’t just a manager anymore. There was no one to override his decisions. If he wanted to blacklist a band for messing with his big night, there was no one to stop him.

Well, Yixing might say something.

From his vantage point to the side of the stage, he could see the bar, the band, and the backstage. The girls from Polly had packed up their two tons of gear, and the space was empty except for the good one from Unit who held a drink in one hand and his phone in the other. Why was he hiding backstage? Yixing had hinted there was something going on between the members of Unit, but he’d assumed it was between the other two, whatever-their-names. Not the good one. You could count on... Kyungsoo. He was always polite, always professional. He never fucked everything up like those other guys.

He should go over there and make sure there wasn’t something going on that could mess with his schedule.

Baekhyun and Jongdae. That was their names. How could he forget their names? Good Korean names, his mom would say. Whatever.

Kyungsoo looked up as Jun approached and slipped his phone in his coat pocket. “Hey, congrats again.” He held out his hand. “The house is packed, and the bands sounds great. You must be so proud.”

Jun shook his hand. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve got a great staff. I couldn’t do it without them.” Always pretend to give others the credit. People love humility. And it was true. He’d picked out a good crew, especially Yixing. He couldn’t do it without Yixing. He should say that. Kyungsoo would mention it to Yixing, and that would make Yixing happy. And a happy Yixing--

“Say, Jun, I was wondering, how well would an old-style R&B act do here? You know, like Leon Bridges or Nathaniel Rateliff?”

“R&B?” What kind of question was that? “R&B and hip-hop don’t really do well here. There’s a reason Atmosphere, two white dudes, is the biggest hip-hop act to come out of here. Hell, even Lizzo left town. Why? You aren’t planning to take Unit in a different direction, are you?”

Kyungsoo shook his head and looked away. Jun glanced at his watch. Spygame had been on stage for six minutes.

Kyungsoo took a sip of his drink. “No, I was just wondering. So if you wanted to play that kind of music, you’d suggest moving somewhere else like L.A. or Chicago, maybe.”

Maybe Yixing was right. Something was going on with Unit. Whatever it was -- he didn’t care. It just couldn’t happen now, fifty-three minutes before they took the stage for Jun Kim’s goddamn opening night. “Yeah, maybe, but there’s a big risk to moving from your home base. Look at…” What was tall guy’s name? “Look at Chanyeol. He moved to Austin which should have been a great move for him careerwise, but then he was alone when he broke up with his abusive boyfriend. He had to start his career over from scratch. It’s taken him years to rebuild, and now he’s moving back home.”

He hadn’t known all that until he’d had lunch with Minseok, Chanyeol, and those other guys. He hadn’t thought about it at the time, but Kyungsoo hadn’t been there. Huh. He let his gaze flick over Kyungsoo. He was kind of slumped over as he stared at the floor. Crap.

Yixing. Yixing would know how to fix this.

He grabbed Kyungsoo’s free arm and squeezed it. That was reassuring, right? “I’ve got to head to the front of the house for a second. You want to come with? We’ll get Yixing to refill your drink.” He tightened his grip and led him to the back hallway.

Kyungsoo pulled his arm away when they reached the doorway. Jun looked at his now empty hand and let it fall to his side. If Kyungsoo didn’t come with him, would he have to come back to fix this?

“I’ll follow in a minute,” Kyungsoo said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just want to check my messages first.”

That sounded like an excuse, but okay. Maybe Yixing will say this was nothing to worry about. He glanced at his watch. They were still mostly on schedule, and night hadn’t been ruined yet.

 

**Jongdae**

 

Since Minseok burst in the green room looking like someone had shoved a pole up his ass, Jongdae had been looking for Kyungsoo. He wasn’t in the alley where Minseok had left him, drinking at the bar with Yixing, or in the crowd on the main floor watching Spygame. Jongdae was just exiting the men’s room when he saw Kyungsoo standing in the hallway with Jun.

Jongdae ducked back in the restroom. Fuck, what now? They had to talk, but what the hell was he going to say? He hadn’t considered that when told Baekhyun and Minseok off for making things worse. Now it was his turn to not fuck this shit up.

He never should have let Baekhyun go after Kyungsoo in the first place. Coin toss or no, Jongdae knew Baekhyun was a rude bastard who couldn’t help but say the wrong things to Kyungsoo. He pushed and pushed and didn’t consider how Kyungsoo took every word to heart and let them tear it to pieces.

And then Minseok had misunderstood Baekhyun talking about the mess he’d made with Kyungsoo. If he and Baekhyun were the bad seeds, then Kyungsoo was the good son, and Minseok hadn’t known what to do when Kyungsoo had stepped out of that image. He hadn’t waited for their explanation of what happened before he went searching for Kyungsoo. After he’d returned and they’d explained what had happened, what had been happening since high school really, Minseok had felt like shit.

And Chanyeol had felt worse than all of them.

Jongdae had left the three of them in the green room with the promise that he’d sort things out with Kyungsoo. He needed to fix this for all of them -- especially for Chanyeol and Kyungsoo -- but they could all use a little honesty in their lives.

Jongdae peered out the door. After patting Kyungsoo’s shoulder, Jun turned and walked past the bathroom on his way to the main room. Kyungsoo leaned against the wall next to the doorway and looked down at the phone in his hand.

Phone? This was worse than he’d thought. Kyungsoo with his phone at a show had to be one of the signs of the apocalypse. He and Baekhyun never followed Minseok’s stupid no-phone-at-shows-rule, but Kyungsoo always turned his off and left it with his guitar.

They’d fucked up so bad.

But it wasn’t _just_ their fault. Kyungsoo had played a part in this.

Kyungsoo looked up from his phone and glanced at the back door. When his gaze swung toward the bathrooms and the main room, Jongdae pulled his head back into the restroom. He counted to five, then stuck it back out. Looking down at his phone again, Kyungsoo was walking in his direction. This was Jongdae’s chance, but--shit. Shit. He still didn’t know what to say.

Fuck it. He’d wing it.

He rolled his eyes at himself. This was a really bad idea.

He stepped out of the bathroom and into Kyungsoo’s path.

Without looking up, Kyungsoo tried to move around him. Jongdae stepped to the side to block him, and finally, Kyungsoo looked up. Behind his thick-rimmed glasses, his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. He looked like a cartoon character. Jongdae tried to reshape his amused smirk into a friendly smile. The point was to not be an asshole. “We need to talk,” he blurted out. He winced at his tone and word choice. He sounded like an asshole.

If Kyungsoo’s sharp laugh was any indication, he agreed. He pocketed his phone. “Since you’ve lowered yourself to facing me, go ahead. Talk.”

Lowered himself? What the fuck? “I don’t know what that means. Let’s go sit somewhere quiet.” He stretched one hand to take Kyungsoo’s arm and pointed toward the back stairs with his other.

Kyungsoo pulled his arm away and took a step back. “No, I’m not letting anyone push me around anymore. We do it here, and you keep your hands to yourself.”

Shit. This sucked. He should have forced Baekhyun and Minseok to tell him what they’d done and said to Kyungsoo. He was so pissed off. Jongdae pulled his elbows close to his body and raised his hands with his palms toward Kyungsoo. “No touching. Got it. Let’s at least get out of the hallway.” Keeping his hands raised, he pointed a finger at the restroom next to him. “Why don’t we go in there.”

Kyungsoo nodded his head. “The toilet, sure. Seems appropriate. Lead the way.”

Jongdae pushed open the door and stepped to the side for Kyungsoo to go in first. Kyungsoo shook his head and pointed for Jongdae to go in first. Jongdae grit his teeth. What happened to their sweet, obedient boy? Surly, teenager Kyungsoo was a jackass.

Bad Jongdae. Calling Kyungsoo names wasn’t helpful. Something--lots of things--had happened tonight and getting irritated because Kyungsoo was asserting himself was stupid. There had been a point to what Baekhyun and Jongdae had done, but it was all lost in the way they’d done it. It would be totally meaningless if he couldn’t calm Kyungsoo down enough to get him to listen.

Jongdae walked past the rows of urinals and stalls to the far end of the room. This was the worst place to resolve a decade’s worth of misunderstandings and secrets, but at least everything was new and clean and it was too early in the evening to smell of urine and vomit.

Kyungsoo walked to the sink and dumped the lime from his empty glass into the garbage can underneath. He poured fresh water into the glass and took a drink. With his back still to Jongdae, he looked at him in the mirror. “Well, talk.”

Jongdae felt his throat tighten. He still didn’t know what to say. “This is such a crappy place to talk. Are you sure you want to do this here?”

Kyungsoo turned and leaned against the counter. He tilted his head to the side with one eyebrow raised. Why did he always look so fucking mature compared to him and Baekhyun?

“You always look like a daddy in those suits.”

Kyungsoo set the glass down on the counter. “What?”

“I know they’re hotter than fuck under the stage lights, but you always look so good.”

“Seriously? We’re going to talk about clothes?”

“Then there’s me and Baekhyun wearing our ripped jeans and t-shirts,” he plucked at his ancient Metallica t-shirt, “and you look like you walked off a runway or out of a bank or something. It’s unfair.”

“With all that’s going on, you want to talk about clothes…”

“It’s unfair because it shows everyone what fuck-ups Baekhyun and I are. You’re so fucking mature, and Baekhyun and I are still getting kicked out of movie theaters like we did when we were in high school. We never had to grow the fuck up because we had Minseok taking care of business and you being kind and respectful and keeping everyone from killing us. Hell, you keep us from killing each other.”

Kyungsoo snorted. “Are you saying you want to wear a suit when you play drums? We’re usually lucky if you keep your pants on through a whole set.”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then say what you’re saying.”

Jongdae laughed.

Kyungsoo’s lips pinched together as he fought back a smile and shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

“It was totally fucked up how you started wearing those suits. Baekhyun was a dick to you, and I didn’t stop him because I was an asshole.” Kyungsoo frowned, and he quickly added, “But you just took it and almost killed yourself. And that’s how Unit has run ever since, and we never fucking talk about it. We don’t talk about shit. There are so many fucking secrets in this band… But I swear Kyungsoo, one of those secrets isn’t that Baekhyun and I want to replace you.”

Kyungsoo tipped his head back as though staring at the ceiling. “What--”

“And you're the worst of us.”

Kyungsoo's head came down, his face frozen and hard.

“You keep everything locked up. Or you try to because even if you have the deadest poker face, you're shit at hiding your feelings. There's only one person as oblivious and obvious as you.” He pulled off his ball cap and aggressively scratched his scalp. “But I can't tell you his secrets any more than I can tell yours to him. But I will if you don't understand by the time we go on stage. I'm sick of this shit.”

He put his cap back on and checked his reflection in the mirror behind Kyungsoo. Let Kyungsoo have his masculine charisma and Baekhyun his sultry sex appeal. Jongdae turned his face to get the right angle. He had cheekbones and a jawline so sharp they could cut glass, and the chicks dug his smile. He let his lips curl up. That was the one that drove them wild.

In his deadpan voice, Kyungsoo asked, “Like what you see?”

Jongdae wiggled his eyebrows at him. “We’ll talk more after the show. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Chanyeol goes on in ten, and we’ve got front row seats.”

 

 

**Chanyeol**

 

Hoping to stay out of Jongdae’s way, Chanyeol had waited until the last minute to leave the green room with Baekhyun and head backstage. His guitar was tuned, he’d warmed up his vocal cords, and now he was just waiting for Spygame to finish their last song so he could go on stage.

Trying to ignore Baekhyun’s restless pacing, Chanyeol sat on a stool and closed his eyes. He inhaled through his nose -- one, two, three, four, five -- held it -- one, two -- exhaled from his mouth -- one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Again he inhaled, held it, exhaled. With his head cleared and feeling grounded, he took inventory. His chest and throat had loosened, and his heartbeat had slowed. But for all his body had relaxed a little, he was still nervous, excited, and a little afraid. It was hard to parse out how much of that was about his upcoming set and how much was about Kyungsoo.

Just thinking the name made his heart pound and throat tighten again. So, most of it was Kyungsoo. He slowed his breathing again. Victoria had warned him that this weekend might be more complicated than Baekhyun and Jongdae said it would be. After all, he couldn’t possibly know what was in Kyungsoo’s head or how he felt about things. He could only deal with his own thoughts and emotions and control his own behavior.

Christ, it was like his therapist was with him backstage at Westerberg’s. After all the time they’d worked together to figure out why he’d stayed with Dan and how to restart his life, it wasn’t a big surprise that her voice was stuck in his head.

They hadn’t just talked about his relationship with Dan. They’d talked about Kyungsoo too. He’d never dated Kyungsoo, never really knew him, so was he crazy to still be sort of in love with him? Through all those years with Dan and even moving a thousand miles away, his feelings hadn’t changed. Was it some weird obsession he needed to get over in order to move on? He’d been surprised when Victoria said it wasn’t crazy and he didn’t necessarily have to get over it. What mattered was what he did about his feelings, how he approached Kyungsoo, and how he reacted to his reactions. As long as he was honest with Kyungsoo and himself and treated them both with respect and kindness no matter what happened, she trusted he’d be okay. No matter what happened.

Through all the plans they’d made on the lead-up to tonight, he’d had no idea that Baekhyun and Jongdae’s relationship with Kyungsoo was so messed up. Maybe he should have guessed. For years, he’d watched the way they ran over Kyungsoo and the way he practically killed himself to please them. Yeah, he should have guessed. He should have done something about it back then. With that thought, he imagined Victoria shaking her head. Yeah, he couldn’t have fixed this for them then, and he couldn’t fix it for them now.

It just sucked that their problems came to a head tonight. It felt so selfish to worry how this would affect his plans. He hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to Kyungsoo before he went on stage as he’d planned, but he was going to stick to his setlist. He’d just have to trust that Kyungsoo would understand what he was trying to say. He was trying --

A hand squeezed his shoulder and brought him back to Westerberg’s, to the hard stool under him, the smell of sweat, and the bouncing melody and lyrics of [“I Will Dare”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cjVMOvJywk) by The Replacements playing over the P.A. He opened his eyes and smiled at Baekhyun who dropped his hand from his shoulder and stepped away.

Baekhyun’s smile was probably meant to be encouraging but came out a little manic. “You ready to go on? Spygame’s finally cleared out.”

It was time to go out there and play. Chanyeol wasn’t nervous about performing, but --  “What about --”

“Jongade texted. He’s in front with Kyungsoo and Minseok.”

Kyungsoo was out front with Minseok and Jongdae. Good. Okay. “Did he --”

“He said you’re good. We’re good. Well,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes and bobbled his head, “he sent a bunch of eggplant and sparkly-heart emojis, but that’s what he meant.” His grin widened.

They probably weren’t “good,” but better would have to do. As Chanyeol stood and stretched, Jun waved at him from the stage curtain.

Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol’s Taylor from its case and handed it to him. His look was surprisingly intense. “You’ll be great. We’ll see you out there.”

Chanyeol nodded, headed to Jun, and pushed his way through the stage curtain.

Just a few hours before, he’d stood here and played for the first time with Kyungsoo. He’d been sitting in the green room with Baekhyun and Jongdae when they’d heard Kyungsoo playing “Reason To Believe.” He’d been so eager to see him, he’d run down the stairs. He hadn’t planned to play the harmonica solo. It’d just happened. He’d known he’d eventually get to play on stage with Kyungsoo tonight for Baekhyun and Jongdae’s surprise, but when Kyungsoo had invited him on stage, just the two of them playing together -- it was better than he’d imagined. The lyrics to “Reason” brought up bad memories, but hearing Kyungsoo sing those words and play that song with him, it felt like he was putting those memories away and making new, better ones with Kyungsoo. It’d hurt when Kyungsoo ignored him when the song was over, but he’d chalked that up to nerves -- his and Kyungsoo’s.

As he plugged in his guitar and checked the tuning, he glanced at the audience. Just as Jongdae had promised, he and Minseok stood just to the left of center with Kyungsoo. There were probably only two or three people standing between them and the stage. Even with the blinding contrast between the bright light flooding the stage and the dark bar, he had a great view of Kyungsoo. His eyes were cast down, and his mouth was tight, straight line making him look lonely, like he was alone on an island and not surrounded by friends in a crowded bar. But at least he was there. Jongdae stepped a little behind him and waved his arms over Kyungsoo’s head. Without turning around or looking back, Kyungsoo elbowed Jongdae, making him drop his arms to protect his side. Chanyeol managed to keep the grin off his face until he turned his back and pretended to adjust his amp.

As he turned back around to face the audience, Jun caught his eye and pointed at his wrist. It was time to start.

He inhaled, held it, and exhaled as he stepped up to the mic stand and raised it so it reached his mouth. Then, he smiled and looked around the darkened room. Damn, it felt good to stand on stage. “It’s great to be back.” He paused at the sound of hooting.

Baekhyun had joined Kyungsoo and Jongdae and had his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted. As Chanyeol laughed and nodded, his gaze caught on Kyungsoo. His blank expression had been replaced by a small smile and soft, brown eyes.

Chanyeol’s pulse sped up, but it wasn’t anxiety this time. It was anticipation and hope driving the beat. Still looking in Kyungsoo’s eyes, he said, “It’s been a while, and a lot has happened since I’ve played for you, but --” He felt his voice catch in his throat, and he had to swallow. “This song’s called ‘Future Days.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fics referenced as song titles so far are “Life Will Write The Words” by jumpthisship, “For the words we cannot say” by catboxjellyfish, and “Future Days” by London9Calling.


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